Man Out Of Time, Woman Out Of Place
by xTheLilyQueenx
Summary: Steve and Natasha realize they may have more in common than they thought. Starts soon after the events of the movie.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers/AN: I don't own any of the characters other than random OCs, and thank Marvel for letting me play in their sandbox. Some readers used to romance fanfics that center pretty exclusively on the pairing may initially be concerned I'm taking this into triangle territory because of how much a presence Clint is, but that's really not my thing. In this, Clint and Natasha were a couple for a time years ago, but it's very much over now and they're best friends and partners – no more, no less. Rated for language, some sexual content in later chapters.

Man Out Of Time, Woman Out Of Place

'Forget regret, or life is yours to miss'

Life Support, RENT

JARVIS kept the lights mercifully low as Natasha padded down the hallway of her floor in Avengers Tower. It was barely 5 AM, really too early even for her on a day off, but trying to get back to sleep had proven futile. Perhaps the place had her subconscious confused; she could relax somewhat in her utilitarian quarters on the Helicarrier, and hotel and motel rooms across the world that had ranged from passable to roach ridden, but luxury always meant a mark –or at least a job- very close to hand. And, in typical Stark fashion, her floor was luxurious. Not Byzantinely opulent – that was so not Tony's style, or hers – but tasteful, high quality, and with all the goodies. Big too – a miracle, in New York City.

"Main level, please," she said, as she stepped into the elevator.

"Certainly, Agent Romanoff." After a short, but extremely smooth, ride the doors opened again onto the main living area. Floor to ceiling windows gave a 180 degree view of the quiet, but never sleeping, city and the approaching dawn.

She made her way toward the kitchen in search of tea better than the microwave on her floor could produce, and after a week of living in the Tower was not surprised to find Steve Rogers – Captain America – seated at the table already fully dressed for the day, with a newspaper at one elbow and a cup of coffee at the other. He didn't seem to be paying the least attention to either though. She let her footfalls get heavier as she entered, not wanting to startle him, and a moment later he looked up.

"Oh – good morning, ma'am."

She couldn't help but smile slightly at that. From anyone else the term probably would have annoyed her, but from him it was a show of genuine respect rather than a chivalrous front for the opposite.

"'Morning, Captain. You're up early."

She crossed over to the stove and started getting together her tea things, pausing a moment to smell the leaves. The familiar fragrance centered her, and soothed away her earlier irritation.

"Yeah. I, uh, don't always sleep well."

"Happens to all of us sometimes," she agreed, putting the water to boil.

"Can I ask you something?"

She kept her face carefully neutral as she replied, "You can ask, but I can't guarantee I'll answer."

"It's nothing personal," he hastened to assure her, looking every bit as young as he really was. "It's a favor. Would you mind if I asked you to explain things, privately? I like Tony, but…"

"He can take the teasing too far. Anything you want to ask will stay between us, unless doing so would endanger someone. Deal?"

"Deal."

There was a note of relief in his voice that went right to whatever caring instincts she still had. "You know, I'm impressed by you. I'm not sure I'd be handling it as well if I were the one plunked down seventy years into the future."

Steve flushed slightly. "Thank you."

The teakettle started whistling and Natasha, thinking that was probably enough deep conversation for 5:30 in the morning, used the interruption as she started the tea steeping to turn the conversation to their respective plans for the day.

AAAAAAA

One item on her agenda she hadn't shared with the Captain was to spend some time with Clint. He was the reason, really, she'd accepted Tony's offer to move in; he'd confessed late one night in little more than a whisper that everything on the Helicarrier reminded him of Coulson, and of attacking her, and he wasn't sure if the openly hostile agents (not that he blamed them for reacting that way) or the ones who were so obviously trying to pretend nothing had happened were harder to be around. He'd wanted to leave and she was hardly going to let him go alone.

Part of what was coming to be known as the training floor was set up as a firearm and archery range, and she timed her entry there for when Clint would be finishing up his daily session. There were three targets active, set to move in a random pattern across the field, and she watched in quiet appreciation of his skill as – with a rapidfire thunk-thunk-thunk – three arrows hit three bulls-eyes yards apart. He paused a moment, surveying his work, and then glanced over at her.

"'Morning, Tasha."

Habitually, she moved to a position in his peripheral vision but not near enough to affect his shooting. "How is the training going?"

"All right, but I'm going to use more targets next time. Need more of a challenge."

"Showoff," she teased, getting the expected little puff of pride out of her partner. "And, how are you?"

He let out a sharp breath, and lowered his bow. "Better here. Still not good." That was an improvement, and she reached out to give his shoulder a brief squeeze.

"Agents Barton and Romanoff, Mr. Stark has asked me to relay that Director Fury is requesting that you and the other Avengers report to SHIELD HQ in one hour," JARVIS' calm tones broke in. "You do not need to… suit up. There will be a car ready in thirty minutes."

There was no _immediate_ danger then, but SHIELD would hardly call them in for nothing. Natasha resisted the urge to sigh. Maybe, if they were lucky, this would be the start of groundwork for an op that wouldn't happen for a bit at least. Clint needed more time to level out before going back into the field, and much as she was avoiding thinking about it so did she.

AAAAAAA

The Avengers (minus Thor, still on Asgard) arrived at HQ together, and Natasha realized it was a more or less conscious act of solidarity. They were going to look out for each other, even against SHIELD if necessary. A junior agent near the entrance directed them up to the thirtieth floor briefing room, and an elevator ride later they were filing in. Fury was already there, waiting.

Natasha directed her attention to reading Fury's face and body language. He lacked the signs of extreme stress that had slipped past even his control during the Loki incident, but the set of his mouth and a soberness to his eyes said he was not expecting this to be an easy meeting. So did the way he had his hands held behind his back.

"Please, people, take a seat…"

She picked the chair between Steve and Clint, and was unsurprised to hear Tony immediately go on the offensive from the far side of the table. "Having problems with another of your weapons of mass destruction?"

"Tony…" That was Bruce.

Fury let his good eye sweep across their faces. "I have news, and an apology to make. You were allowed to believe Phil Coulson had died because he was grievously injured and because it would unite you when we desperately needed you to work together. Until this morning the doctors gave him 50/50 odds at best, so I think you understand how serious his condition still is. But he is alive and – barring complications – should stay that way."

Stunned silence reigned for a moment as they took in the news – several small things that had been bothering Natasha's subconscious now clicked into place – and then gave way to shouts that nearly shook the room.

"You utter _fucking-"_

"Director Fury, you had NO right to keep this from us so–"

Natasha's contribution was a string of fluent, rather creative curses in her native Russian.

"_Trust_ SHIELD, that's a laugh…"

"Yes, I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry I didn't." Fury said, raising a hand to forestall further comment.

Clint spoke up anyway, voice rough. "When can we see him?"

"Right now. I'll have one of the junior agents show you."


	2. Chapter 2

Man Out Of Time, Woman Out of Place

Chapter 2

_If you only knew what the future holds_

_After a hurricane comes the rainbow_

Katy Perry, Firework

As they proceeded down to the medical facilities, Steve thought, at intervals, _Thank God. Thank God. _ He'd barely known Agent Coulson, really – saying he'd known him at all seemed like an exaggeration next to the years Agents Barton and Romanoff had known and worked closely with him – but it had been enough to like him. To appreciate the man's character. To find he hadn't been lost for good, well, Steve could only be incredibly grateful.

The junior agent assigned to escort them, who had a rather young-looking face and a soldier's way of moving, opened the main doors and once they all processed in led them immediately to the left. SHIELD Medical was brightly lit, almost painfully so, and to Steve the smell of antiseptic hadn't changed all that much from when he'd been a kid frequently in and out of the hospital.

To pass the next set of doors their escort underwent a second scan of one of his eyes, as well as a fingerprint check. Steve was a bit surprised by that at first, given how many layers of security they'd already passed through, but it made sense on further thought. This ward seemed to house the most severely injured or ill patients, and the medical staff wasn't required to have more than the most basic combat training.

Various doctors, nurses, and technicians roamed the hallway, which was lined with windowed rooms. Each room had a station out front with a computer screen and chair, and each of those chairs was occupied if the room was. As the Avengers continued down the hall, Steve couldn't help but peek briefly through the windows. Medical care in the 21st century seemed to involve a phenomenal amount of equipment, though the pieces he could identify were usually much smaller than their 1940s counterparts.

"Hello, I'm Priya… Agent Coulson's chief nurse." The voice called his attention back, to an Indian woman who couldn't have been over five feet tall and gave an impression of carefully contained energy even while seated. "It's nice to meet you all. You can go in to see him, if you want, but there are some ground rules. We're keeping him to one visitor at a time for five minutes each for now so he can rest. Secondly, if any monitors alarm and I or one of the doctors say to leave the room, you must do so immediately without arguing or questioning. Understood?"

The Avengers nodded or muttered a yes as they saw fit.

"I know it sounds harsh," she continued, not without sympathy, "but we really are trying to give him the best odds that we can."

There was an awkward silence, and Steve spoke up to break it. "Thank you, ma'am."

She hopped lightly off the seat and took Agent Barton by the back of the upper arm. "Why don't I show you in first?"

They disappeared through the door, and Steve finally allowed himself to look through the window at Agent Coulson. There was a skin-on-bone tightness to his features that reminded Steve, unsettlingly, of mummies and there were tubes and wires going everywhere, and a clear plastic mask over his mouth and nose. He was alive though, and looked comfortable enough considering. He even managed a small smile when (Steve was pretty sure) he recognized Agent Barton. Feeling a bit wrong about watching further, he turned his attention back to his other teammates.

Tony had leaned against a wall, one foot up on it, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I am so replacing those fucking trading cards."

Steve didn't even bother to chide Tony for his language. "I'll sign them when you do." He wasn't going to be surprised if he wound up carrying out his half of the promise this very evening. Tony had obscene amounts of money, connections everywhere, and the impatience of a five year old when he really set his mind to something.

Bruce gave them both a mildly confused look for a moment before recognition dawned. "Oh, the… right. Yeah, nice idea."

Tony gave a small kick off the wall to stand properly. "I should let Pepper know, too… she'll have my head if she finds out I waited any longer to tell her." He fished his StarkPhone out of a pocket in his suit jacket, and drifted toward the closest thing available to a quiet corner, sliding down the wall to sit crosslegged before making his call.

Apart from their initial blowup at Fury they had all been remarkably calm, and Steve wondered whether that should worry him despite its convenience. Still, the news was _good_, if a shock, and there was no point in borrowing trouble. Enough of it found them. It was better to start planning; he made a mental note to ask about how long Agent Coulson was likely to need to stay in medical, and to ask the man himself if there was anything he wanted – a book he'd been reading, maybe. Little things like that helped make hospitalizations a little more bearable, he knew from experience. Steve considered whether there would be any real difficulties in store if they started spending more time here once Agent Coulson was allowed longer visits, and didn't think so. Communication was so much easier these days. Might Barton and Romanoff decide to move back to SHIELD, to be on hand?

His eyes drifted to the female half of the duo, and what he saw brought him out of his thoughts. It would have been easier to draw it than putting it into words, but more than just being distracted she seemed to have turned completely inward, and look smaller somehow. He had never seen her that way before, not in public. "Ma'am?"

She let out a breath, and focused her beautiful blue eyes on him. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine", she replied, and it seemed close enough to the truth. "Just thinking. I should have known something didn't smell right."

"Fury managed to dupe us all," Bruce said, an edge to his voice. "So, you're in good company at least."

That managed to get a small twist of the mouth that might almost have been a smile out of Natasha.

Not long afterward, Clint emerged from Coulson's room looking simultaneously exhausted and like a hundred pound ruck had been taken off him. Natasha clasped hands briefly with him, and then headed in herself.

oOo

After that life settled back into a routine dominated by training and trying to catch up to the modern world, with the addition of regular visits to Coulson. The agent improved steadily, as if his body had come to some firm decision to live after all. The Avengers threw him a small celebration when he was upgraded to one of the regular rooms, and a larger welcome home party when he was finally pronounced fit to go home two months after his 'death'. There had been decorations, an eclectic mix of food, and some of Coulson's favorite music playing just quietly enough to not interfere with conversation. All in all, it had been one of the best days Steve had had since being thawed.


End file.
